


Found

by Jazzy_Kandra



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson, Warbreaker - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: F/M, the reunion you've all been waiting for, this is definitely going to be AU sometime very soon!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 12:17:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20063893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazzy_Kandra/pseuds/Jazzy_Kandra
Summary: Zahel is less than thrilled to see Nightblood again. Oathbringer Spoilers; a short sequel to Advice.





	Found

**Author's Note:**

> Written because the swordpuppy and his owner deserve SOME happiness. xD

Adolin, that fop, had managed to wear a “stylish” gold suit to his traditional Alethi wedding.

A part of that amazed Zahel. There was Shallan, dressed in a traditional Alethi wedding gown. Light blue, likely azure - exactly on hue, actually - and trimmed with gold. Perhaps that had inspired Adolin’s choice, he would _want _them to be color coordinated, the gold of his suit was the same shade as the girl’s embroidery, amusing that, it was almost like the seamstress held _Breath_.

That thought was more than a bit discomforting, but it was unlikely she knew him. It wasn’t like that Thaylen woman could be Vivenna, the latter didn’t have the eyebrows and was about as good at blending in as a blade of pink grass in a field of green.

_She probably just has a Damnation good color sense._

That, however, did not stop Adolin’s suit from looking like it was some kind of gaudy knock off from the Court of the Gods. Then again, Zahel had always considered most highborn Alethi weddings he’d had the misfortune to attend one shade off of garish. After all, that was _tradition_.

Or perhaps he was just grumpy because the boy had asked him to attend despite that he had told that lad, repeatedly, that he _hated_ weddings. At least he didn’t have to officiate it, he hadn’t had to do _that_ kind of crem in years. As luck would have it, Kadesh had stayed on despite Dalinar’s heresy and had been more than happy to give those two lovebirds a nice official Vorin ceremony even _though _the man was starting to doubt his own religion.

Good ol’ Dalinar, turning everyone into atheists.

Irony was nearly as good as the wine he now drank from a gauntlet too pretty for an ardent to hold. After the main ceremony had ended, he had retreated to a mat in the back, legs crossed, eyes closed, relaxing. Only Renarin had bothered him in the course of the feast that followed. Luckily, the events were almost done and...

He felt a familiar presence, harsh red on black. _No_, Zahel thought, the wine he had just sipped tasting far more rancid than it had a moment before, _that can’t be..._

_“Master Ardent_,” Zahel let one eye slide open at the speaker’s overly polite tone. Then, stared, his Breath catching in his throat. Szeth of the Skybreakers wore white on the day he approached Zahel, argent, baring an all too familiar sword. “My sword...insists that he wishes to speak with you.”

Zahel backed up against the wall, fear gripping his chest.

“Master Ardent--”

Whatever else he said, Zahel didn’t hear. No, it was blocked by that _horrible_ yet _missed _voice he had longed to hear for over ten years now...

_Vasher?_

_Hello Nightblood._

_“_I’ll...let you speak alone_.” _With a short bow, the Assassin in White proffered Vasher the black blade in its inornate aluminum sheath, gingerly, with awe and respect painted on his features. “Please take care of sword-nimi. He often says he misses you, or, I think it must be you of which he so often speaks.”

Zahel nearly corrected Szeth, but the man left before he could. Nightblood shouldn’t be _able_ to miss him. That was impossible...and yet...

Yet, he wanted to believe it, at least this once. It was foolishness, he knew, but...they were surrounded by swords that could feel and think. This sword was similar, maybe on Roshar, Nightblood could too.

Today, perhaps, he would let himself be a fool.

_Your tears are causing me to rust._

_You don’t rust._ Colors, when was the last time he had wept? He wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve, smiling slightly despite the sense of foreboding that twisted his stomach into knots now that Nightblood had returned to him. _How have you been?_

What a thing to ask a sword. 

_Lonely_, Nightblood replied, much to his surprise he _felt _a wave of loneliness from the blade, like invisible ink appearing upon an empty page. _That one green lady with all the plants was weird...then she gave me to Nale..._

_The Herald? _he asked, alarmed.

_Boringest guy I ever met! Never let me slay evil...he was the worst!_

_I see. _He sighed. He didn’t particularly miss _this_ aspect of his far-flung blade. _Or he was wise._

_You’ll let me kill some evil today, right?_

_No. Adolin’s getting married, _he replied, part of him wishing Szeth had stayed so he could give the blade back, but the man had returned to Dalinar’s side. Returning Nightblood would make a scene, he would just have to hold on to him. _Is married._

The newly wedded couple was dancing now, pretty, and happy, and all so very much in love. The Highprince had even undone her sleeve despite that he should have _waited_ until after the wedding celebration to do so. Considering how those two were acting the week prior to their wedding, they probably had _not_ waited until the celebration for certain other things _too_, not that he was one to snitch. He might be a bad ardent, but he still had morals.

_No killing evil today._

_Aw_, Nightblood whined in disappointment.

_How did you end up here?_

_Szeth brought me_. Vasher waited. _Nale said he was a good choice for evil slaying, but he barely ever draws me. I did get to kill some of Odium’s minions, though. Vasher, that Shard is the definition of evil!_

Vasher snorted. Nightblood wasn’t wrong in this case. _You can’t kill him. You’re only one sword._

_Can I deliver the final blow?_

_That isn’t my call._ Cultivation probably wanted her vengeance. Vasher didn’t want to get involved in a storming Shardic dispute. He was _retired_ for Damnation’s sake, this wasn’t _his_ fight.

_Oh. Well. How about tomorrow? We can slay some evil and kill some Fused...what do you say?_

_I’ll consider it. _He would probably regret this, but... _There is plenty of evil to slay._

_Good._

**Author's Note:**

> Nightblood is best boy.


End file.
